My Sanity
by ohvertigo
Summary: Roy Mustang is on 'minibreak' in Rizenbul, said to be injured, sick and has recently moved in with the one and only Ed. [RoyXEd, RoyXRiza, part two is up!]
1. Chapter One

My Sanity  
Disclaimer - Full Metal Alchemist is not mine.  
Statement: RoyxEd, RoyxRiza and hints of EdxWinry. Al is a loner here (awwwww...). A bit of unintentional smut. This is my first fanfic ever. Do be sympathetic. Context is mostly manga based.  
NOTE: To previous readers, I have modified the whole shebang since there were way too many chapters and too little words to serenade it with. Therefore, chapter two has been merged with one and three with four. Yup, added a chapter four.

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Part the one: Off to Rizenbul  
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Roy jerked himself forcefully into the waking world, covered in sweat and rumpled blankets. That dream...the dream...oh hell...  
Riza had looked so sweet in that dressing gown. Everything had seemed so unimaginably hot and steamy. So...so...unbelie--  
"Sir?"  
He blinked. Several times. Why was he in a medical bed? And why were a full, and obviously rather heavy pair of suitcases being hauled out the room?  
"Sir? Are you-- I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" Riza's face hovered into view, anxious expressions all round. Roy's head spun. Sterilizer and a crisp linen scent hung in the still morning air. Of course! He was in the hospital recuperating from several surgeries to his side. Damn shrapnel. It had buried deep into flesh during a short face-off when a group of terrorists had blown up an entire row of cars, reducing the entire street to rubble and smoke. Normally, such things didn't happen but it was a restless period, especially with Homunculus running around Central. Being off-duty made the circumstances even worse. That had landed him with several weeks of surgeries.

In the following days, something rare had happened to the Colonel. He'd picked up the strain pneumonia that had been floating around town, not that it was uncommon. Roy was just suprised he was sick at all. The doctor had explained that his health had degenerated to a rather weak stage and even the most sure people could not avoid a bout of flu or two.

Inorder to combat the virus, a new drug had to be used. Pneumonia was nothing too serious but in the Colonel's condition, something more potent had to be used just to be safe. After a generous does of the medicine, he had promptly blacked out, only waking for a few minutes at anytime, bathed in sweat while the drug did its' work.

And when Roy had finally awoken, his body free of any outside invasion, he saw his possessions being hauled of the ward by a struggling pair of trainees.  
"Sir? Is there anything you need?" Riza's voice did not hide her fatigue very well. Roy turned to his subordinate only to be considerably suprised that she was clad in a white shirt and a dark magenta skirt that floated teasingly about her knees. Last time he'd been bedridden she had been in full militiary regalia. This was not Hawkeye style. But certainly becoming. The way her shirt was a little too tight, how the stray ends of hair peeped out from behind a loose collar.

The dream hit back to him. Roy flushed scarlet and it only deepened when Riza leant nearer to feel his forehead. Wait... stop think about that...they had been soooooooo close...damnshitfuck...she smelt nice under the neck too...get it out...out...out...--  
"The cab to the train station has arrived..." a trainee nurse stood nervously in the threshold of the ward.  
"Thank you. We'll get there as soon as possible" Riza thanked her. She turned back to the colonel.  
"What?"  
"What? Don't look so suprised," the second lieutenant frowned.  
"Where the hell is going on? I thought I was--" Roy asked. He was confused. Only naturally.  
"Oh," Riza paused, "We thought you heard. You know, the trip to Rizenbul. The doctor says fresh air would help get rid of the after effects of the drug." She turned away and rummaged at something.  
"Rizenbul? Don't be ridiculous! You never told me anything."  
"Of course we did. It was just you were unconcious for most of the time and we had to make the arrangements--"  
Roy scowled. "What arrangements? What matters is that I wasn't consulted at the time and being your superior--"  
"You were unconcious! There was no way in which the doctors could predict how long you'd be out. And then..." Riza slowed her tirade. It was obvious she was concerned.  
The colonel's visage softened. Hawkeye could be all too stubborn sometimes. Stubborn but loyal, and caring.  
He let out a resigned sigh. He had no idea what was going on except that a visit to Rizenbul had been arranged.  
"Alright. Just this time, mind you. Still, Rizenbul..." he scratched at a tender spot under his chin.  
"Oh and Sir, Rizenbul's the hometown of the Elric brothers. "  
"So you're sending me off to see Fullmetal. Won't he be pleased..."  
"Unless you'd rather be in your office. There's been a lot of paperwork, I must say. After those terrorist attacks...nobody could make head or tail of it..." Riza said skillfully. A thoughtful smile played about her lips. "I think the Department of Internal Affairs were just looking for you the other day, something about a stack of forms they wanted from a month ago--"  
"Fine! Fine! Just..." Roy sighed.

Fifteen minutes later, Riza wheeled a defeated colonel into a special compartment of the train reserved for military officials. Having seen to the luggage, she had then set about persuading him into dressing something other than the utilitarian blue uniform. She quickly noted that Roy hadn't put up much of a fight. Instead, the entire morning had been dealt quite easily. Usually, the colonel would not abide to anyone ruling over him, especially when descisions were not to his liking. But today. Now this was new. It was almost as if after the word 'Elric' had cast a damnably good spell over him. But it was probably better this way.

a/n Ok. Now you can hurl fireballs at me. Imma skip (: And because here, i've attached the 'old' chapter two into chapter one so everything can be mroe easily managed.  
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Darkness. Then the smoke cleared. It spread sideways, clearing a path down the emptyness. Ed let out a deep breath, hearing it echo, hit back at him. Darkness always seemed to beckon, even when danger warnings were written all over it. But this-- this was the only way to get Al's body back. She had said. Who had said? Can't remember. He stepped forward following the singsong of the fog and shadows. And funnily enough, it felt right. Al would be given his body back. What was rightfully theirs.

His footsteps quickened quickened quickened until rain? Rain was falling from the tops of the emptyness stretching forever and all around the smoke was teasingly just infront. Just a bit further. Ed sprinted and saw-- light. A small speck at first then larger as he neared until. A door. The gate. Wasn't this just shit? But it was raining. Droplets of water hung off his face, probably the only reality that existed on this plane.

"Give it back!" he screamed. But nobody was there. Just black and whatever lay beyond. Then he heard quite, the padding of feet. A shadow materialised. Long robed, arms. Ed's heart stopped. In those arms-- what the fuck? -- his stomach heaved. Suddenly, the blood was real. It was all over him. All over that dead, skeletal...thing in those arms. A head lolled, hair fell back to reveal Al. Pale, bloodshot eyes that were glassy and wide open, staring into the gloom. The smoke circled and he could hear them. But louder now; less of a dream, more of a reality.

"Well come home, Edward," a soft voice crooned.  
The world was suddenly alive with screaming and screaming and screaming--

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The morning he woke up, Alphonse Elric something was coming. The entire atmosphere boded ill; it was cloudy, unusually wet  
and grey. In addition, his brother, Ed was up early and already gone, his quilts left in a large mess. There was something in the air that didn't seem right...

He trudged down the stairs to begin another day at Rizenbul. He and Ed had been staying here for just over a fortnight; a small break his brother had decided to take after the incidents with the Homunculi. Al reached the bottom just in time to hear Winry's voice come from table loudly and clearly.

"Ed's gone y'know..."

"I know--"

Winry threw a look at him then said, "he'sgone. No breakfast, no nothing." Al shrugged.

"Well, Niisan is quite busy..."

"He's up early. That's not normal." Winry protested. She pouted, expected an answer. But Al kept quiet. It was best that Pinako and she didn't know. Last night had been a awkward and uncomfortable time for Niisan. He had been awake for a very long time, unable to sleep. When Al asked what it was, he had mumbled vaguely about something then turned away. But the younger brother was still able to sense the uneasiness in Ed's mind.

The rest of the morning passed quite uneventfully; Winry was in the workshop banging pieces of metal together, or put it in more professional terms, making Automail. Al had spent the hours sitting in the grass, staring out over the hill. Niisan was probably going to graveyard again. That would be the third time in two weeks.

By noon, there was still no sign of the blond-haired alchemist. Both Winry and Al were worried.

"Where would he be? Ed never misses lunch." she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Maybe he left the graveyard--" Al muttered, still scanning the hilltop.

"He what? The graveyard?"

"No-no. I meant the town," he frantically spluttered.

Arms akimbo, Winrey surveyed the horizon. She let out a string of quiet but rather colorful words.

"In that case, we'll look for him. I mean it. Making us worry and all..."

"Sure. Where should we go first?"

Winry twiddled her lobes, fingering the studs in the pink before saying, "I dunno. We could check out the other end of the street."

"You mean the train station?"

"Yeah."

The two looked at one another and shrugged. They jogged, both silent. But Al could sense that wrongness. Yes, he could feel it. Everything was out of place. Something funny would happen. But what?

Niisan's disappearances were not uncommon; the last time he'd been here, he'd met father. That would've been quite a shock and from what Grandma Pinako had said, the meeting wasn't exactly pleasant. Maybe that was why...

(a/n sorry for this interruption but if things seem a bit weird and boring then I'm apologizing. This is because I'm a Hong Konger and I read FMA in Chinese so I have no idea how to make the Winry seem right in English. I hope I got Al though (: bowbow Sorry for the boring-ness so far.

Why Niisan had been acting weird last night. Above, storm clouds were gathering and the air crackled with static electricity like candy wrapping or tin foil. Except with a lethal side. Al turned to see Winry. Hints of sweat showed at the roots of her bangs. She blew them out of her eyes and fanned herself with a hand and stared stormily into the row of neat houses aligned by the station. The weather had nothing better to her mood and sparks had started flying. He could tell Niisan would have a lot to say when they found him.

Then it began to rain. Al felt it hit his wide shoulders, lightly at first then harder. Hollow sounds echoed resounded deep within the metal.

"We should get going Winry," he said quietly, "before you get wet."

"Yeah---No, shit! Ed's there," Winry screamed. Relief and anger were both evident in her voice. Then she took off.

"Where," but no one was there. Winry had become a blur of overalls and blonde skidding in the wet earth and sprinting towards the figure at the near the station. Closer inspection three figures by the station but she was too in a rush to care. With his ever present smile, Al ran after her.

Trees, pedestrians, sign posts, all sped past him and he almost tripped into the small train station of Rizenbul. Metal clanked and some leaving people dived to get out of the way. Then he saw them, Niisan with an expression that screamed "I'm pissed off, get lost!", Winry who seemed a bit flustered and... Oh god. Oh fucking... Was that Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Riza?

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a/n - to previous readers, sorry about the mess I made. This is a bit of a mixup TT since I thought, my chapters never seemed to exceed a thousand words, and having alot of chapters, I find is a bit wrong since there wasn't content to start with.  



	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - no own Full Metal Alchemist, falalalalahhh

Statement: Been a while cause of coursework I desperately had to hand in. This story is starting to bore me, it needs more variety! Things are really draggin aren't thye? Context is mostly manga based.

**NOTE: **Really, really modified a lot of the previous chapter three. Chapter four is somewhere below, though I recommend rereading the whole thing. I'll be going to Beijing soon - minibreak for me. Check back after August 21st.

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Part the two: Unwanted presence

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"W-what the f-fuck?", was all Edward managed to gasp. He could not believe this.

"It's nice to see you here", Alphonse said, similarly star struck but altogether far more pleasant.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at Colonel Mustang and Hawkeye. Several dozen questions whizzed through the Elrics' head. First of all, why were not in their military uniforms like a good soldier should be? And why was Mustang of all people in a wheelchair? Was he playing with 'injuries'? Ed half expected this to a total ruse.

"It had better be...", he hissed between clenched teeth. Winry broke the uncomfortable silence with a quick laugh. Why did Mustang always turn up and ruin things? Like to hell with his damn explainations, that bastard.

"So...Umm--"

"Why are we here?" Riza cut in smoothly. Winry was taken aback at the slim, elegant lady that the gun-wielding Lieutenant had transformed into. She nodded vigorously.

"Well, suffice to say, Colonel Mustang has sustained some injuries in an--". Roy lifted a hand to silence the Lieutenant.

"I'll explain," he said curtly, lacking his usual smug, superior tone. He turned to the tense Elrics. "Let's just say I'm sick and I need a place to stay and the further away from Central the better, especially--"

"Sick? Don't give me that crap! I'm sixteen! If you're hiding something then say it now!" Edward snapped. He wasn't that angry, just suprised. Roy glared at him for interrupting.

"--especially when I'm more than often the target of many enemies. I was attacked by a few suburban terrorists when the patrol was off du--." The elder Elric snorted rudely in disbelief.

"The Great Flame Alchemist? Caught off duty and ends up in a wheelchair? Oh come on, nobody would take that!"

"Believe me, Edward," Roy snapped, peeved, "when I'm back in Central, I'll assign you to enough paperwork to keep you busy for a month! Then you'd really be doubting how much trouble the past few weeks have been!"

"Anyway," Al interjected hurriedly, "where did you say you were staying?"

"We haven't made the arrangements yet but until then, we've decided to stay at your accommodations for convenience," Riza stated with as much a straight face as she could.

Ed exploded, though imploded was the more accurate description, Mustang had thought in aftermath.

"Bastard! Can't you ever stay out of our business? So you think we're after the Philosopher's Stone? You think you can find out everything just by staying at our house? Do you know how pathetic this i---uhhhhhh--".

"Temper, temper, Fullmetal," Mustang clicked disapprovingly. He was being downright provocative and he knew it, "You can't say that to a superior now, can you?"

"Shut up, you lech!", Edward said, though without much effect. "Besides, getting other accomodations wouldn't be a hard task for someone of such _superiority_." Emphasis was placed on the last word. Roy smiled charmingly, as if he was having a hard time of admonishing adamant but thick-skulled infants. "Actually, it's with the security issues. For reasons of my own, I've begun to suspect that there are Homunculi infiltrating the government--"

"You mean they're spying in on you?" the older Elric said in a disbelieving voice.

"Actually working, Fullmetal," Mustang cut in smoothly. "I'm the target of many opponents, whether Homunculi or human." The smaller alchemist harrumphed in surprise. He had forgotten the fact that the Colonel was _the _Amestris Militia's Flame Alchemist, capable of blowing up small buildings. And in the process of his career, picked up alot of trouble.

a/n - ok, more author interruption Dies. Stuff is getting more and more confused and the plot is quite flimsy. I'm gonna bury myself inna minute D:& - and thanks for all the reviews so far. The response was better than expected since I consider myself a bit of a 'lurk' type and a second rate author. I love you all for being so nice. So on with the story.

"You mean they actually work in the government? Don't pull my fucking leg if you don't have to, Mustang!"

"You mean the metal one or the other?" he still had the effort to pull on his lazy and wide smirk, which was probably worthwhile since he just loved working Edward into a big mess.

"Bullshit, you know what I mean!" the furious boy made a sideways slash with his arm. God, did Roy really have to make such a joke out of everything? Then as if he had read his mind, Mustang's voice began in a lazy drawl.

"Do explain, Edward," he remarked, dropping other titles, "I never joke. I think it would be you, but it's been quite a while and I dare say you've...grown?"

"Screw it, bastard! You just know where to poke and prod, aren't you?"

"No...no, I thought not. You haven't grown one bit--"

"WHO ARE YOU SAYING IS SO SHORT HE CAN ONLY EVER SEE PEOPLE'S KNEES?"

The Colonel had to admit that it was an impressive display of temper that hadn't dulled in the few monthes he had not seen Edward.

"I apologize then, Fullmetal."

"You'd better--"

Hawkeye snorted impatiently. "It's all settled then is it?". Edward was about to refuse but he saw the 'weapon' bulge ominously against the tight waistband of her pretty dress and guessed he had two options. Say no and suffer or agree and have a helpless Roy Mustang hanging around, not to mention a lot of hassle. But his life was always priority. Otherwise, Al would never see a day with his body back.

He nodded tersely and sighed in resignation. Winry stared quietly, her mouth open. Al was likewise. They'd be talking about this for

days behind his back. Oh shit. Just his luck.

-----------------

It wasn't a far distance between the station and the Pinako's residence but Hawkeye had firmly stated that the Colonel was in 'no state to travel on such unforgiving terrain' and therefore required an escort of a vehicle. She took to a truckdriver milling beside the ticket booth and pushed roughly past the throngs. Al couldn't hear what she said but the deal as done in a matter of seconds. But he secretly knew, indubitably, it was probably an unfair deal, since Hawkeye did carry personal arsenary in her clothes. They clambered onto the spacious albeit straw and dirt strewn floor of the vehicle's rear. The driver came round and pulled a face at the motley ensemble before he got into the front.

"Where did you say you guys were 'eaded?" his voice was croak, like saliva had coagulated in his voicebox. Al shuddered at the unappetizing thought.

"Pinako's, you know, the Rockbell's..."  
"Yeah, goddit!" then turned around, looking twice. "Edward an' Al! Ain't seen youse' in eons! Where'd you go?"

Everyone's attention shifted to the pint-sized Alchemist. He'd only been staying at Pinako's for two weeks. The rest... He mumbled, tripping over consonants, vowels and the whole vocal shebang. "Uh, n-nowhere really, I was paying a visit to s-some f-friends..."

The driver's mug cracked into a wide grin. He pulled a soggy cigar from his denims and proceeded to light it but with no avail.

"Damned thing--Ahh. Whatever..." He shoved it in his mouth, chewing the tobacco. His passengers visibly winced though he was obviously unperterbed.

"So then, Eddoes," - Edward choked on the nickname-slash-insult. It was like being called Eddo-kun. Eugh. - "who're these chums?" the driver waved a cursory four digited hand - the fifth was missing - at Mustang and Hawkeye. The blond haired being glared murderously at him. There was a pause as several possible excuses floated above his head. None seemed to qualify. And just when things were on the verge of transforming into a silly faux pas, Winry barged in, eyes shining with unarguable innocence.

"Oh, they're just cousins. Visiting, on a minibreak from Central..." she intoned, not missing a beat. Smoothly, flawlessly, like an authentic con man. With that, she shooed the inquisitive man away, throwing surreptitious glances at Ed.

He seemed subdued, not wasting an extra word beyond the absolute minimum since his blunt diatribe resulting in a shamed exit left stage and had simply but on a sour mood. So much for late-teen angst, Winry thought with a resigned huff. It would be a long day.

-----------------

The rest of the trip was unevenful. Mustang was jaded beyond the definition. He could've dropped dead inside the back of the truck despite the dodgy hygiene and interesting smells that told a cache full of old animal tales, excrement included. The rain had all but stopped, a final wring of water from the cheerfully grey cumulus. The truck made the last coast of a hill top and halted by a typical house, equipped with front and back yard, the overflow of weeds that come with one - for free too - and a dog. It was around afternoon,

the time when children were roused from afternoon naps, when tempers frayed from an onslaught of unnatural autumn heatwaves, the time when Pinako usually straightened her legs in the sun. She grunted into her pipe as a truck, peeling blue and grey, pulled up, starting the mutt.

Four figures clambered out of the back and then a fifth emerged on a ramp on a wheel chair. The first three were Winry, Al and Ed. The last two were two unfamiliar faces. Winry hurtled up the front yelling, "Granny, we're baaaack!". Pinako grinned, stood up and drew deeply into the pipe.

"And who're those two?", she said, gesticulating vaguely at the truck.

"Fucked if I knew," came a surly voice. Edward's.

"Nii-san!" Al swatted him irately, on Pinako's behalf, "don't be so rude." Then he creaked in acknowledgement to her question, "that's Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye, his ermm---"

"Dumb underling. Though it should be the other way round," his brother spoke in the most incendiary manner. It didn't work to provoke anyone, other than a spanner and further scolding from the younger Elric.

Pinako grumbled and headed up to Lieutenant Hawkeye and scrutinized her. After a moment of cognition, she slowly nodded. "Yes, yes, I remember you two. Military I believe?"

Riza nodded and helped Mustang out of his wheelchair. He coughed slightly, before reluctantly, and gingerly placed a foot onto the ground. Pinako frowned. This wasn't how she remembered the Colonel Mustang, the very one that had induced Edward into the Militia. He was changed. She sighed inwardly, guessing the story.

"Injured and sick, no? I suppose it was some accident, someone told me." Mustang looked up. Damn, she was like a Sherlock Holmes on a murder case.  
"Good afternoon, yes, terrorists. I'm afraid we really had no choice, ma'am. And you know, I'm sure a veritable horde of people would love to see me trussed like a pig on a spit, just to get their backs on as of my condition."

"Understood."

Edward spluttered. "What the hell? You let _him_ in! You must be crazy." To her credit, the aging mechanist ignored him and gestured to the front door. "If that's the case, then I'm more than welcome to accomodate you lot." Like one big family. It had been a while since so many people had resided in the house together. I kind of actually miss that feeling, Pinako mused.

**a/n - **hoho. Will be in Beijing soon. So don't expect anything new for the time being. I hate myself, this fic is so muddled. I should've planned it out or something.


End file.
